Greetings Dear Reader,
I was thinking yesterday about the picture I put with my
blog. It was a heart carved out of pink
quartz. It was beautiful but it was
still a heart of stone. As I turn my
heart and thoughts to holy week one of the things I am thankful for is that my
heart is not hard.
I remember a time when it was and have no desire to return
there. The difficulty is that my hard
heart is no longer that way because it was broken. I have a positive outlook but I am also
filled with sadness. I am a man of hope and
love but also constant sorrow.
Sometimes my praise comes from a cold and broken place. It is not cold because it lacks passion but
rather because of the cold associated with loneliness. That is not my point here but it is pertinent
to the thought. Before I get to the
revels associated with the resurrection I want to pay attention to the grief
and sorrow that make it possible.
We want to praise and worship but sometimes I am put in the
place of sorrow so that I remember why I worship. The resurrection requires the death. The joy requires the sorrow. No matter how good my life is there is a
place of constant pain over sin and loss.
There is a damp spot in the corner of my eye. There is always a corner to my smile.
There can be just as much faith in our broken cries of pain
and sorrow. I need to consider this for
a space as I journey toward Holy Week.
Walk with me Dear Reader. I could
use your company. Your thoughts are
always welcome.
Better
than a Hallelujah Sometimes – Amy Grant
God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out, singing out
We pour out out miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)
Better than a Hallelujah
(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
No comments:
Post a Comment